


Where He Came From

by bluelitsunshine



Series: Bars and Diamonds [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Gen, I hope, Kinda?, brotherhood era, pregame, the first part in my series that won't be as angsty, this is so much more angsty than i anticipated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 10:22:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10009928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluelitsunshine/pseuds/bluelitsunshine
Summary: Prompto didn’t know what the black marks meant. He just knew to cover them up.His parents once told him that the marks were a sign from Where He Came From, and that no one could know that he had them. It took him a long time to understand what they meant. He knew he was adopted, that was never a secret, but how could a five-year-old understand the implications of those bars and diamonds on his wrist?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic i've written in almost 7 years so bear with me as my writing develops. No beta so if you see anything let me know!
> 
> find me on tumblr bluelitsunshine

Prompto didn’t know what the black marks meant. He just knew to cover them up. 

His parents once told him that the marks were a sign from Where He Came From, and that no one could know that he had them. It took him a long time to understand what they meant. He knew he was adopted, that was never a secret, but how could a five-year-old understand the implications of those bars and diamonds on his wrist? 

He was too young to really remember Where He Came From. His adoptive parents refused to tell him, saying only that “A nice lady brought you to us, that’s all that matters.”

The boy only really got flashbacks- of bright lights, of antiseptic smell, and of _pain_.

These flashbacks were rare, but tended to coincide with crippling stomach pain. He had these attacks as a young child, fighting the pain and the black, acidic bile rising up his throat, bending over the cool porcelain of the toilet bowl. Prompto tried to tell his parents about the pain, once, but they didn’t understand, or try to understand, the severity of his condition. He never bothered them with it again.

These attacks were one of the reasons he turned to food. As he found out, having a lot of food in your stomach helped to counteract the bile that threatened to escape. So he ate.

It helped, a little bit. The attacks became less frequent, less intense, and he was able to function and go to school.

He never really felt like he fit in, during his time in elementary school. He was adopted by a family that didn’t spend a lot of time with him, he had grown pudgy in his efforts to battle the stomach pains, and he didn’t have any close friends. Of course, the other kids were nice enough to him, but Prompto never felt like he had a true friend.

One year, his parents gave him a small digital camera for his birthday.

Suddenly, Prompto’s entire worldview changed.

The shy, overweight kid who never truly fit in suddenly had a purpose. He was the documenter, the outsider with an inside look at the lives of those around him. But, this still felt too personal to Prompto. He shied away from pictures of people he knew, and instead focused on candids of strangers and the animals on the streets of Insomnia.

This is how he met Pryna, dubbed Tiny, and he gave himself a purpose- become the prince’s friend.

He tried, once, but a simple “Heavy!” comment froze Prompto in place.

_He wasn’t good enough to be anyone’s friend. How stupid was he to think that an adopted, overweight, lonely boy with black marks to hide could be friends with someone like the prince?_

Trying to stop himself from spiraling into a never-ending panic, he did the only thing that made sense.

He ran. 

He ran home, if only to get his blood flowing and heart pounding, giving himself a physical reason for the embarrassed heat in his cheeks.

And he kept running.

He ran, and ran. Sometimes he hated himself in between, staring at the band on his wrist. Those times he ran a little longer, a little harder. It helped, some.

He started to notice that he felt better. His breath didn’t catch immediately when he climbed stairs. He could run a little farther. His pants, though still tight, left a little more wiggle room.

He realized that “ _Heavy_!” could be a thing of the past.

So he took a picture of the boy in the mirror.

He started to run to the farmer’s market, picking up whatever vegetable was the cheapest. Prompto didn’t know any better, but he knew that this was a start.

He ate vegetables for dinner after school instead of his usual takeout. He taught himself how to cook eggs for breakfast instead of cereal. He started to feel okay about himself.

Then the stomach pains came again, creeping out from their prison cell of fast food and sugar.

Prompto was at school when the first major attack in years hit him. The familiar cramping hit him right as he entered his second to last class of the day. Knowing what to do, he turned right back around, running towards the furthest bathroom away, where he wasn’t likely going to be walked in on. Until he bumped into someone in the doorway.

He crashed right into Noctis, knocking him over.

“Oh man, I’m so sorry!”

_Crap, crap he needs to get out of here._

Cheeks red, eyes panicked, Prompto ran. He didn’t notice the confused, silver-blue eyes following him until he turned down the hall.

Prompto slumped to the cold tile floor of the second floor bathroom, sweating. Black bile rose up his throat, tasting of stomach acid and metal. Tasting the distant, fleeting memories of Where He Came From.

The fluorescent lights of the school suddenly looked too much like a metal laboratory, the cold tile like a gurney.

Prompto’s head was spinning so much he didn’t notice the black haired boy peek in the bathroom, hesitate, and quietly turn back away.

The waves of pain and bile eventually passed. The school bell rang an hour ago, the halls were empty. He picked up his stuff and, for the first time in over a year, walked home.

\---

Three years later, Prompto takes his last progress picture.

_Today is the day. Today, he makes a friend._

He takes a moment and looks through all of his old pictures, saved on one SD card.

Three years of running, healthy food, and metallic bile. Three years of constantly battling with his body, with the fleeting images of Where He Came From. Three years of pushing away the negative thoughts.

_He can do this. He’s ready. He deserves something good. He needs a friend, too._

He pushes out the negative thoughts of _he will just remember you as the Heavy kid, useless, weird, quiet. The kid who knocked him over. He doesn’t want any friends. He likes being alone._

Prompto changes the SD card, pushing in a brand new one, throws on his uniform blazer, and jogs to school.

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS SO MUCH MORE ANGSTY THAN I ANTICIPATED wow
> 
> This is a prequel of sorts to my Bars and Diamonds series, where it'll be more slice of lifey pre-game and then eventually follow the story. It'll have a lot more fluff and eventual promptis.
> 
> Thanks!


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